


Guilt (Again)

by injeong



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: Kasamatsu still thinks that it's his fault that Kise was injured during the game between the Vorpal Swords and Jabberwock.





	Guilt (Again)

 

He probably shouldn't be guilty. 

 

It's Kise’s nature, he knows that. The boy goes over the top and he tries too hard and too earnestly and keeps going until he physically cannot go on any further. He's seen that in so many practise matches and tournaments and championships and most of all, in  _ that _ game. 

 

No matter how many times Kise waves him off and laughs and says that it wasn't because of him, Kasamatsu still feels responsible. After all, he  _ had _ called him before the match, asked him to win for them and for their basketball and to show that they hadn't been wasting their years playing the sport, and he  _ knew _ that Kise always took things like this seriously, but he still called and told him. 

 

Watching the match, it had been the most thrilling of few minutes to watch Kise become the most dominant player on the court. He had moved so quickly, so fluidly, flowing like quicksilver around all defences and the other players and the ball kept flying through the hoop again and again and again. Nobody could stop him, not Kise, who fought with his soft brown eyes blazing gold, the ball a blur between his hands, flashing like a bolt of yellow lightning from one end of the court to the other.

 

It had come as a shock when he'd fallen.

 

It would be a lie to say that he didn't expect it. The injury had been affecting him ever since he got it, and sometimes, during matches, Kise would try just a little bit too hard and Kasamatsu would spot the pain that flickered over his face before the mask healed again and Kise would wave it off, laugh, and win. He'd always been careful, he had to be careful, because even if the injury wasn't  _ really _ chronic and in need of prolonged rest or specific treatments, there was always a risk that he might go too far and never be able to play properly again.

 

So behind the wonder and admiration that Kasamatsu had for Kise as he watched him go further and further, scoring point after point, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him to  _ stop, you've done enough, you'll get hurt, you'll get injured again _ -

 

And then when Kise rose up, the ball above his head, and launched into a shot, Kasamatsu’s breath caught in his throat. 

 

The ball went thudding to the floor and rolled away, coming to a stop outside the court. 

 

Kasamatsu still remembered how the world had suddenly stopped spinning for those few seconds, how he was on his feet before he realized it, and then Kise was no longer standing but staggering to his knees, not a player on the court moving. He'd been to shocked to register all the emotions that had run through him at that moment like a bolt of lightning - but all he could see was Kise. 

 

He'd been terrified - what if he's really seriously injured, what if he won't be able to play again, what if it's a chronic injury that will affect him for the rest of his life - and he can only watch, high up in the stands, a sea of strangers and seats and fences separating them, as Kise struggles to stand again, his blonde hair soaked with sweat, his hands fisted, but he still doesn't move - he can't move. He just stays there, on his knees, head bowed, sweat dripping into a steady glistening puddle on his shorts and on the floor, looking more defeated than ever. 

 

Akashi comes then, takes his arm and pulls him up, and Kasamatsu's heart breaks a little to see how Kise’s legs are limp and trembling, the pain that flashes on his face when he tries to put more weight onto his feet, and then all of a sudden Kasamatsu is thinking  _ no, it should be me, it should be me who helps him up when he breaks and me who supports him and helps him to where it's safe and comforts him and makes sure that he's alright and that he will be able to play the game he loves again. _

 

It's an irrational thought. Kasamatsu had dismissed it quickly - he had been his captain in the basketball team and they had pretty much spent the most time together out of all of them, he'd been his captain when he first got injured and when he played his games and he'd been there to help him up after he fell. It might have been only one year before Kasamatsu graduated and moved away, but it felt like he had known Kise forever. 

 

He'd shaken the thought train lose then, leaned forward as the game resumed, watching the players move with an intensified determination, but he never once stopped looking at Kise out of the corner of his eye. 

 

He had assured himself, by the time the game had finished, that Kise would be fine. He was already up and standing and running over to his teammates as they celebrated their win, and maybe the triumph and joy on his face masked any pain he might have been feeling, but Kasamatsu knew that he was going to be okay. 

 

The guilt didn't stop, though. 

 

Even as he ran down towards the team as the rest of the spectators started filtering away, the prickles of guilt in his stomach didn't stop, and he saw Himuro scolding Murasakibara for being so careless with his hand and he saw Kuroko and Kagami running to meet their Seirin teammates and Takao teasing Midorima about something that must have been intense, judging by how red the green-haired boy went, but the guilt didn't stop. 

 

Kise noticed, of course. He ran over to him with only a slight limp, and Kasamatsu had to dodge his hug - “Kise, you're still sticky and covered in sweat, don't touch me!” - before the blonde finally calmed down and said, “Senpai, you have to stop blaming yourself for everything.”

 

“Um. What?”

 

“It's so obvious, on your face, Senpai - oh, it's the phone call, right? It must be the phone call - Senpai, it was me who called you first, you just told me how you felt and that's a good thing, it's not your fault I got injured or anything -”

 

Kasamatsu just sighed. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Senpai, I  _ just _ said -”

 

“But it's still kind of my fault, you wouldn't have gone full-out so much and gotten hurt if I hadn't told you to win, I knew how you were and I shouldn't have said that kind of stuff that I knew was going to get you all -” 

 

Kise squirted his water bottle in his face before he realized what's happening, and Kasamatsu spluttered and wiped his face and instinctively reached out to smack the younger boy on the back. He doesn't hit him as hard as he usually would have done. 

 

“Look, Senpai …” Kise turned towards him with a look that Kasamatsu doesn't usually see. “It's not your fault, okay? This is just how I play, I like basketball, I wanted to win, win for you and for me and for the Vorpal Swords and for Kaijo and for every single team and player in Japan that played basketball. I wanted to win to show Jabberwock that they were wrong, and even if you had called me and told me that I was going to fail miserably and that I might as well not try, I would still have gone all-out. Your words just helped me, Senpai. I wouldn't have been able to have done so well, able to  _ win _ , if you hadn't -”

 

“So you doing  _ so well _ is collapsing on the court and not being able to stand up, is it?” Kasamatsu doesn't know why he's so angry. He  _ shouldn't _ be angry, he knew that, but he couldn't stop because Kise was being an idiot as usual and trying to defend Kasamatsu when Kasamatsu knew that he's done wrong. 

 

Kise looked hurt for a second. “Senpai -”

 

He hated it. He hated it when he saw Kise so defeated, so  _ vulnerable _ , and it reminded him so much of the game again Touou when he'd tried so hard but failed, when he'd struggled to stand whilst the victor just stood and looked down on him and all his efforts, when he'd cried as they walked back to the locker rooms and he couldn't do anything about it, and it reminded him of the losses during his last Winter Cup at Kaijo, and how Kise’s expression almost shouted how he felt that it was all his own fault and that he'd let everyone down and nothing Kasamatsu or the other team members could say would change his mind, and the way he wouldn't look at anyone during the third-place match against Shutoku because they'd lost since he sat out because of his injury. 

 

He just hadn't wanted to see Kise hurting himself again. 

 

“Senpai,” Kise said again, and his voice was softer. “Why do you care so much?”

 

Kasamatsu made up his mind and moved before thinking. “ _ This _ is why,” he replied brusquely, and he stepped forwards, pulled a startled Kise downwards, and kissed him.

 

If the rest of the people in the room had been staring at them, Kasamatsu didn't notice. There was only him and Kise right then, nobody else, nothing else, and he moved in to deepen the kiss as soon as he felt Kise respond, locking his arm around his neck and pulling him closer, tighter. He could feel Kise’s bangs tickling his face as they both pulled back for air, and Kise’s face was flushed and a little red, a mixture of stunned surprise and confusion and  _ elation _ ?

 

“Senpai …” he breathed, and a second later the blonde reached forwards, looping an arm around his waist and pulling them back together, and Kasamatsu doesn't resist at all. 


End file.
